


A Most Honorable Proposal

by Writingwife83



Series: Sherlolly Week ‘18 [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Class Differences, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Sherlollyweek2018, day 3: engagement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 13:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13881441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: Miss Molly Hooper is an eligible young lady who is expected to make a suitable match, and although Sherlock Holmes wants to do nothing to stand in the way of that, her heart cares nothing for status. She comes up with an rather unconventional way to help him see things from her point of view.





	A Most Honorable Proposal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elennemigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elennemigo/gifts).



> I accomplished very little for sherlolly week this year...but I did at least complete this one shot! Elennemigo requested that I cover the non canon engagement theme for day 3, but wanted it done with a bit of a twist. I really liked that idea, especially with Lexie’s added “scandalous” idea of it being set in a much more conservative period. Hope you guys enjoy! ;))

“I shall have no one but him.”

Mary’s brow lifted and she set her tea cup down as gently she could considering her excitement. “Your mind is quite made up then?”

Molly nodded, smiling as well, but feeling as if a field full of butterflies had taken flight in her stomach at her declaration. “I will not- cannot- deny the strength of my feelings any longer. And it is in vain that I attempt to entertain the glances and attentions of any other gentlemen when I know in my heart it would come to nothing. The only attention I desire is from him.”

Mary reached over to squeeze her hand. “But you still seem so distressed, my dear. What is it that troubles you?”

The beautiful Miss Molly Hooper glanced thoughtfully out the window of her pristine sitting room. “He shall never speak to me, Mary. I know he will not,” she stated glumly.

“Tsk, but surely if he knew where you heart-“

“No, he has made it very clear that he believes himself to be an unworthy match,” Molly insisted. “Mr. Holmes considers himself...beneath me. In more than one way, in fact.”

Mary shrugged. “His family is not quite as reputable as yours, naturally. But he should hardly see himself as so unworthy. Have you attempted to make your feelings clear?”

She nodded. “We have as much as confessed what is in our hearts. Or very nearly have. But he is a stubborn man, and he imagines he is doing me some sort of service by maintaining this strict boundary of friendship between us.”

“Stubborn is certainly accurate,” Mary agreed. “I confess that before I was even aware of what was in your heart, I urged him to speak plainly to you.”

Molly hardly had to ask based on Mrs. Watson’s expression. “He would not be moved.”

Mary shook her head. “No he would not be...the foolish man.” She took a frustrated sip of her tea.

Both women were silent for a while, sipping their tea and going back and forth in their minds, running into walls each and every way. Molly hated the idea that this was likely what they both wanted, but yet they’d both be deprived. It seemed absolutely wrong in every way. But she felt so helpless, because naturally there was nothing she could do...

Molly’s head shot up and she stared at Mary, her eyes brightening. “Mr. Holmes stubbornly refuses to propose,” she restated.

Mary laughed lightly. “Yes, my dear, I believe that is the problem. Though you look more like you’ve discovered a solution. What could that be?”

“It really is so simple. Though, admittedly unconventional,” she explained excitedly. “You see, if Mr. Holmes will not propose…it must be done by someone else!”

* * *

“You are uncommonly quiet this evening, Holmes,” John commented during the jostling carriage ride.

Yes, indeed he was. Sherlock Holmes gazed blankly out the window as the darkening scenery passed him by. He was even less in the mood for smalltalk than usual. This evening was worse than drudgery. It more closely resembled a personalized form of torture.

“There is hardly anything worth saying,” he muttered without shifting his gaze.

“I fear you shall have to muster up some sort of pleasantries when we arrive at the party,” Mary commented, a secret smile playing at the corner of her lips. “It is of course a happy occasion.”

He resisted the urge to groan, only in an effort to avoid conflict. There was precious little that felt happy about this particular occasion to him.

Sherlock had received the invitation a fortnight before, the paper’s gilded edges shimmering a bit as he pulled it from the envelope in the candlelight of his study. But it hardly seemed inviting once he read the words.

_A Ball to celebrate the announcement of the engagement of The Honorable Miss Molly Hooper._

He nearly crumpled it into nothingness and tossed it into the fireplace. But he knew very well that would be childish. And it would be just as childish to hide away in his study on the day of the event, acting as if he were some sort of victim. He was not of course. The whole affair was largely his own doing. He had only to say the word and Miss Hooper would be on his arm, blushing prettily as she shared the happy news with their friends.

But she was not, because this was how he had intended it to be. For her to be happy with someone else...more suitable. If he truly wanted to be the gentleman, he knew he needed to make an appearance, wish her joy in the life that he’d encouraged her to reach for, and graciously take his leave when appropriate.

He could give her that at least.

The Hooper estate was alight with happily glowing lanterns that lit their way up to the door, though it was difficult for Sherlock to truly bask in their warmth. The glow that he couldn’t possibly deny however, was the one that filled the room as they entered the festive home and Molly came out to greet them.

“Dr. and Mrs. Watson, good evening! And Mr. Holmes…” she paused, holding his gaze long enough for him to begin counting the flecks of gold in her chocolate irises. “I am so pleased you could be here.”

He inclined his head a bit while briefly taking her hand. “An honor to be invited,” he replied graciously.

She blushed noticeably, then smiled at all three as he released her hand. “Please do enjoy some refreshments and conversation. I am not yet ready for my father to make the announcement, seeing as my fiancé is not yet arrived.”

Sherlock frowned. “How is the young man not here when it seems that everyone else already is?”

Molly shrugged, strangely unconcerned. “He shall be here when he is ready...patience.”

With that she strolled away, greeting a few other guests who were nearby. Sherlock spoke in hushed tones to the Watsons once she was out of earshot.

“What sort of gentleman can Miss Hooper be aligning herself with if he refuses to make a punctual appearance at his own engagement party?!”

John snorted, attempting to cover up a little laugh.

“What exactly is so amusing?” Sherlock demanded indignantly.

“You needn’t worry, Mr. Holmes,” Mary hurried to answer. “Trust us, he is the very best sort of man. Nobody better for our Miss Hooper!”

This made him scowl, despite himself. It was difficult for him to fathom the Watsons being in such pleasant spirits for this occasion. He was sure they were aware of the affection he harbored for Molly, and if anything he expected them to be attempting to console him.

Sherlock avoided mingling for almost an hour before Molly swept over to him again, resembling a little flower floating happily on the breeze.

“Mr. Holmes, I wonder if I might steal you away for a moment.”

He almost asked her if that would be entirely proper, considering the fact that her fiancé would likely be making his entrance at any moment now. But...he rebelliously chose not to object.

“What exactly do you need from me, Miss Hooper?” Sherlock questioned as she led him out to the balcony.

“We are friends, are we not?” She smiled at him while following him over to the railing.

“We are,” he replied softly, though the distinctly limiting description of their relationship cut painfully.

“Then I should like to ask something of you.” Molly turned fully to face him. “I would very much like your blessing on my engagement.”

Sherlock blinked, pressing his lips together in pause. It was unlike Molly to be vindictive, and he didn’t believe she was purposely being so now. And yet, this certainly felt like a twist of the knife.

“It would mean so very much to me,” she added. “If I knew you approved before I have him at my side, the night would be even more meaningful.”

“Difficult for me to say,” he finally replied, clasping his now nervous hands behind his back. “Seeing as I have yet to meet the man.”

She nodded. “I thought you may say as much. But come now, surely you can manage some simple deduction based on the occasion...and myself.”

Sherlock swallowed thickly. Yes, she was right, he probably could. It seemed a bit distasteful to him though, to focus on this man who would soon be her husband. But of course, if this was what mattered to her…

He cleared his throat, glancing back into the ballroom for a moment before looking back at her.

“He cannot be a man with a large family or circle of friend of his own. This party is small, consisting only of those in your acquaintance, and not even all of them. You have been selective in your invitations to this event, despite the connections that your father has.”

Sherlock paced the balcony, thinking some more. “The music is tasteful, not overly jovial, despite the happy occasion. You likely chose it to accommodate his taste as well as yours, so he must be a man with a keen ear.”

He stopped again, his gaze resting gently on her once again. “And you...you have naturally dressed for him.”

Molly’s expression softened with his words, just the ghost of a smile at her lips as she listened.

“Your gown compliments your complection and figure without being overly loud and distracting. Your hair is attractively done, but not out of the ordinary. The eye can simply focus on you. You must know he prefers to see you just as you are, needing little adornment.” He couldn’t help but enjoy the pleased blush the covered her cheeks.

“I would like to think so,” she agreed quietly.

“And then there is your demeanor,” Sherlock continued, gesturing to her. He paused swallowing hard. “You are happy, noticeably so. You would not be so if he were not a good sort of man, one who puts you at ease.”

Molly twisted her lips in a pleased little smile. “So, Mr. Holmes, what do you think then? After all of that deduction.”

He cleared his throat. “I can thus far find no fault with the match. He truly must be, as the Watsons insisted...perfect for you.”

Molly grinned, looking positively triumphant now, which seemed somewhat strange to him, given the circumstances.

“He is,” she agreed firmly. “I had very much hoped you would agree. Because you see, I want to be able to introduce my fiancé and not have him leave in a huff.”

Sherlock frowned. “I- I don’t understand. I was led to believe he was not yet here.”

“He is in fact present,” Molly clarified. “But...he is not quite yet my fiancé.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at this statement, wheels turning as he realized there was something peculiar about this interlude. But then…

Miss Molly Hooper took his hand.

“Mr. Holmes- Sherlock,” she began, voice a bit unsteady, her hands grasping his firmly. “Convention would say that the one asking should be on bent knee, though nothing about this is quite conventional I’m afraid, but I find I must ask you a question.”

He was momentarily awestruck, stunned as it dawned on him what exactly she was doing.

“I did not want this, any of this, with anyone else. I hadn’t the desire to give my hand, celebrate the match, and pledge myself in front of God and men. I preferred to have none of it...if not with you.”

He felt a hitch in his throat at her tone and the look in her eyes.

“Molly,” he finally uttered after recovering from the initial surprise. But she shook her head.

“Please, I’ve not finished.”

Sherlock instantly pressed his lips together, feeling more instinctively obedient than usual.

She paused in silence as well, seeming to gather her thoughts.

“As you can see, I’ve given this quite a lot of thought,” she continued with a small laugh. “And I believe that should not be how the story ends for either of us. So…”

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes,” Molly said, taking special care with each part of his name as if they were all precious to her. “Will you please do me the honor of taking my hand in marriage, and becoming not only friend, but husband and partner in whatever life may hold for us?”

“Molly…” he began again, barely audibly, but was cut off again.

“In doing so,” she hurried to add, as if wanting to add all possible weight to her offer. “You would surely make me the happiest of women. Because you see, you have already long since been in possession of my heart. And it is my firm belief that nobody else is worthy of it.”

He let out a small laugh. “Worthy? That is precisely-“

“Precisely what is not worth arguing over!” Molly finished for him, reaching up to gently grasp his face between her palms. “I have always loved the fact that you trust my judgement, as does, I should not fail to mention, my father. So please, if I truly have your trust, believe me on this matter. You are more than worthy of so much, and that includes me. That is...if you want me.”

Something shot through him at those humbly spoken words and the idea that she could ever question such a thing. He grasped her small hands from his face, bending his head to press tender, reverent kisses to her palms before meeting her gaze again.

“There is _nothing_ I want more,” he whispered.

Molly grinned, exhaling in relief. “Well then, Mr. Holmes, what say you?”

He smiled, feeling an unexpected sense of relief. The notion of simply giving in to the sentiment that nagged at him was rather freeing. And he hadn’t quite realized until this moment just how much she wanted this and how much she would be missing to lose him. Now that it was more than clear, he fully agreed with her. This- the two of them- could not be denied a moment longer.

“I accept your most honorable proposal, Miss Hooper,” he replied, placing another kiss to her hand. “Most willingly...and with my whole heart.”

Sherlock inclined his head a bit, just enough to meet her welcoming lips. So welcoming in fact that he nearly forgot where they were as he wondered how he had run from this for so long. It was like running away from home. There was no escaping the pull to return.

Molly slowly pulled back her thumbs still caressing his cheeks. “Perhaps it is time now to rejoin the party? _Our_ party.”

“Yes I suppose considering the circumstances I should stay for the duration, instead of stealing away early as I had previously planned,” Sherlock said playfully, tracing her jawline with his finger. “You can hardly blame me though. I thought that tonight was when I’d truly lose you.”

She smiled, linking her arm with his. “Ah but this is quite the opposite, Mr. Holmes. I believe that instead, you have just caught me.”

“On the contrary, Miss Hooper,” Sherlock countered, covering her hand with his as they made their way to the door. “I believe that _you_ caught _me_...for which I am eternally grateful.”


End file.
